by user
Down on the dance floor, all of us found some random partners to dance with. But that creepy encounter still fresh in my mind, I danced for about ten minutes before I excused myself and went to sit at the bar where I could watch the professional swimmers in their tanks as they drifted and looked dreamy. I kept expecting the mer-people to get out of the tank, or at least come to the surface for air, but they never did, and I started wondering if maybe it was all an illusion, like the “professional mermaids” at the state fair who sat behind watery panels of glass and just waved their arms around. If it was an illusion, it was a damned good one.
Patti swung by, trailing two guys behind, and said, “Don’t get too comfortable, missy! I have a huge surprise coming up!”
I went back out onto the floor to dance with Lauren while we giggled and shared maybe three bottles of champagne between us. We shoved champagne glasses down our cleavage and kept trying to dance and toss champagne into each other’s glass at the same time. A couple of hours later, Patti came to get us and lead us to the dais. By then I was about three sheets to the wind and just didn’t care even if she had hired the waiters to give us all personal lap dances. But before I could speculate, she said, “Dresses off!”
The fact that I was overweight, miserable and extremely drunk suddenly didn’t matter at all. Lauren, giggling insanely, tried to pull her dress up over her head, but it got caught on her erring. I helped her out of it. Then she helped me out of mind. Two of the big beefcake/waiters suddenly appeared and lifted us up effortlessly, carrying us up a built-in stepladder on the sides of two of the swimmer’s tanks.
Soon we were standing on the ledge above the swimmers in only our bikini underwear, looking down at the model guys while the dancers on the floor whooped and catcalled and told us to “Jump, jump, jump!” Lauren had gotten the dark-haired merman with the green tail. I’d gotten the blond one with the glinting aquamarine scales. I looked down into his beautiful, upturned face and equally startling, aquamarine eyes and saw him smirk up at me from beneath the surface of the water. He made a come-hither gesture and I blurted out, “Oh, God, no! I can’t swim!”
He surfaced, looking astonishing all wet and glistening, his blond hair, streaked with strands of blue, showering all over his broad blond shoulders, and said, “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll take care of you,” in the softest, most musical voice I had ever heard on a man. I looked over at Lauren and saw she had already jumped into the tank and was floating with the merman coiled around her while he dry-humped her. I looked down at my merman and shook my head uncertainly.
“Trust me, little one,” he said, and something about his voice pulled at me as if he had a piece of rope around my heart and he was tugging, tugging. He halved those amazing eyes and his big fantail flickered, splashing water against the side of the tank. I looked at the glistening drops of water on his beautiful skin, sliding down his cheeks and over his clavicle, catching like sparkling diamonds in his blond and blue hair, then stepped off the ledge and felt my stomach drop as I sank into the warm water of the tank.
Why oh why am I doing this? I wondered even as I stopped breathing and watched the club through the distortion of water. I had nearly drowned on a fishing trip when I was five years old. Since that time, I’d avoided the water as if it were the plague. Oh god…I’m going to drown…!
No, someone said clearly in my head, but not in my own voice. I’ve got you, little one.
The merman’s powerful arms were suddenly looped around me, supporting me. I was pressed against his naked pecs, and his tail coiled around my legs, the scales of his well-made suit cool and hard as they pressed against my naked skin. Something else brushed against me, and I suddenly realized that the merman had an enormous hard-on that I could feel even through his costume. Then we shot back up to the top of the tank and I gasped as we surfaced and I found I could breathe again.
The professional merman pulled me against his mouth and kissed me. The inside of his mouth tasted faintly salty and his teeth were sharper than I had expected. He kissed me, nibbled my tongue and lips, then his tongue went into my mouth, much further than any man’s ever had, almost past my tonsils. Still more than a little drunk, and high on the taste and feel of him, I murmured, “You’re really talented.”
He laughed against my mouth. “And you taste good. You taste as sweet as the sea, my little one.”
“That’s just the wine,” I said groggily as he kissed me again, pressing me back against the glass of the tank, his erection probing my stomach. Suddenly I didn’t mind so much. Suddenly I was hornier than I’d ever been in my entire life. And when he moved his kisses to my ear, nipped at it, then scraped his teeth down the curve of my neck to my collarbone, I moaned and tilted my head back.
His hands moved over me under the water—I noticed peripherally that his fingers were faintly webbed the way mine were—then ripped at my bra so he could fill his hands with my big, heavy breasts. I groaned at the sensation, the fierceness of his grip. He lowered his head, fitting it just under my chin, and swallowed down the swollen tip of one breast as if he were starving. I cried out in surprised pleasure when he ran those faintly sharp teeth over my sensitive bud, sucked it back in, and worried it delicately.
A bolt of sensation jolted through me, from breasts to pussy. The moment he turned his greedy attentions on my other nipple, biting and sucking ravenously on it, his long hair swirling across my face, I arched my back and felt myself go right in my black bikini briefs with a cry I hoped no one in the club heard.
His hand moved to the juncture of my thighs, ripping away the little bit of fabric there so his fingers could probe at my opening. His thumb found the seam of my labia, and then he was inside me, not far, but brushing little teasing circles inside my sex that I instinctually reacted to, thrusting my pelvis against his hand, trying not to beg him to go further, trying not to beg him to fuck me. He circled my clit, rubbed it, plucked at my swollen little bud even as his tongue continued to spiral around my nipple, his teeth biting and tenting the sensitive flesh and sending shockwaves of sensation rocketing through my body like an electrical current.
You taste so good, my little siren…
“Uhhh,” I answered, or tried to. My voice was lost to me. I could do nothing but moan as he rubbed his greatly engorged cock against me, pressing my back and buttocks to the glass of the tank.
Open yourself to me. I want to feel you inside…
The moment I scissored my legs open, he gripped my leg behind the knee in one powerful hand and bent it, sliding it around his waist so I was fully open for him, trapped between the merman’s body and the glass, nowhere to go as he slid what felt like the biggest erection I had ever experienced against my pussy, rubbing the bulbous head against me, parting my labia a little as he did so. He teased in and out of me before raising his head, cupping the back of my head, and kissing me on the mouth. I felt him enter me a little more and I mewled into his mouth while a part of my mind—a distant part, I admit—wondered how he was able to fuck me against the wall of the tank while still remaining in his merman costume.
I wanted to look down, to discover how he was doing that, but his hand was nested in my hair, and he kept me solidly in place while he fucked my mouth with his tongue and fucked my body with his cock. He heaved upward, his abs rippling with the effort, and his cock bucked deep inside me, so deep I screamed from the deliciously painful stretching and clenched down around him. He was so big, bigger than I’d ever had, yet he fit well inside me, as if he had had been made for me.
He hummed something into my mouth that sounded almost musical, a sound no man I had ever been with had ever uttered—not that I had much to compare to, really. I’d only ever been with two other guys. A sharp buck of his hips and my ass hit the glass, then again and again as he worked on opening me up inside, moving stealthily inward until he was buried as far inside me as he could go. Finally he groaned, a real male sound of satisfaction, and trembled violently as he went off inside me, filling
me deep inside with his essence, his seed, his fantail striking the glass with such excitement that for a moment I was afraid the tank might shatter and we both might be washed into the masses.
It was only when I opened my eyes, really opened them and looked around, that I realized that both of us were at the bottom of the tank, kissing and fucking like crazy, that we’d been there for some time, at least since the beginning of our strange underwater courtship. I screamed and water filled my mouth and lungs. My merman lunged away from me and I felt a brief, harsh pain as he pulled out, his seed leaking into the water in a smoky cloud. He’d been buried so deep inside me it was hard for me to decide where I had ended and he’d begun.
Then I was choking and panicking and swimming frantically for the surface. The waiters lurked at the top of the tank and they pulled me screaming from the water.
* * *
“God, were you wasted!” Lauren laughed the next day as I helped her gown up for her wedding. She stood in front of an oval, floor-length mirror in her white satin ball gown, giggling madly, and I couldn’t help but blush as I helped pin her tiara and veil into place. Here it was, her wedding day, and all she could talk about was what a fool I’d made of myself at Neptune’s Palace.
“I wasn’t that wasted,” I said more defensively than I’d meant to.
“Deenie, you were screaming about being drowned by mermaids!” she said, smiling at me in a sisterly way in the mirror. “You were so wasted! Did you really do it with that model guy? Because even I didn’t go that far!”
I blushed at her words.
The music in the church started up, and I helped Lauren gather up her gown and veil and hurried her out to be married to her husband Miguel. She looked as beautiful as a princess, and Miguel looked like a Cuban version of Prince Charming. Everything was absolutely perfect at the church, and even afterward at the reception. But even though my body was there, smiling and making small talk, drinking champagne and congratulating the bride and groom, my mind kept drifting back to the bachelorette party the night before—definitely the last party I was going to that involved Patti! Not only had I made a fool of myself, I’d obviously made a fool of the poor model who worked at the place. I hoped what we’d done hadn’t made him lose his job. It was stupid, but the worry soured my mood even as I saw Lauren and Miguel off in their car with the balloons and JUST MARRIED sign, and all the way home from the reception.
I didn’t go home to my little apartment. Instead, I went directly to Lauren and Miguel’s new home to do my house-sitting stint. I drove my little Toyota up the new, white gravel drive, stopped at the callbox by the gate, and told the butler and maid I was here. They let me in and I drove the rest of the way up to the grand, modern palace that Miguel had bought his new bride.
After seeing the help out the side door, I went into the vast living room full of glass tables and white leather settees and crashed on the sofa in my short, unflattering, flamingo-colored bridesmaid dress. I kicked off my sandals and wondered how Lauren had gotten so lucky to have a wonderful husband, this huge house, a butler and a maid!
I sat a long time in the dark with my eyes closed, wondering if I would ever get so lucky, if I would ever find my Prince Charming. Probably not. I was still sore inside from the fucking the merman had given me the night before, but it was a soreness I treasured. I knew I wouldn’t know anything remotely like it for a long, long time to come. And even if I did find a boyfriend, I had a feeling I would never experience anything like that again.
My cell went off and I looked at it. It was an unfamiliar number. “Hello?”
“Is this Nadine?” came a soft, musical and very masculine voice.
I felt a pulse inside at the sound of it. “Y-yeah.”
“This is Caspian.” My caller waited expectantly, like I should know who he was, but when I didn’t answer, he added, “I’m the…the man you were with last night.”
Oh god! He was going to chew me out for seducing him while on the job. That creepy Marissa woman probably canned his ass. Or maybe he was calling me because he had some terrible STD he hadn’t warned me about last night. Oh god, oh god, my life was falling down around me. I was drowning without a drop of water in sight! “Is everything all right?” I asked in a small, trembling voice.
I must have sounded panicked because Caspian quickly added in that soft, confident tone, “Everything is fine, Nadine. I was just hoping to see you again.”
* * *
The following day, Saturday, I tried on seven different outfits before I finally settled on a white sundress with a bright orange sash and white slingback sandals for my date with Caspian. Yes, I’m aware fat girls shouldn’t wear white, but at least it gave my readheaded pale skin a warm, slightly sun-kissed hue by comparison. I’d decided I’d rather look fat and alive than thinner and three-days dead.
Caspian had asked me to meet him at Neptune’s Palace. He said he was getting off work around six in the evening. I went around to the employees’ entrance and knocked softly on the door as per his instructions, hoping I wasn’t making a terrible mistake by meeting the man I’d had wild, spontaneous sex with only two days ago. What if he turned out to be a jerk? Or gay? Or maybe this was his way of apologizing and letting me down gently, telling me there was no way someone as beautiful as he was could be interested in an overweight plain jane like myself.
One of the beefcakes answered and I told him I was here for Caspian. “For real?” the guy asked.
“Yes. We have a date.”
“So you’re going out?”
I frowned. “That’s the plan.”
He looked dubious, which didn’t make me feel any better about this date, but he led me down a snaky warren of rooms under the club until we reached a vast, high-tech gym for the waiters and dancers to work out in. Maybe a dozen muscled guys were there, sweating over exercise bikes and under weights and barbells. A few catcalled as I followed my guide, which made me feel at least a little better about myself and my choice of an outfit.
Finally, my guide turned and pointed at the pool room and walked away.
I straightened my dress and stepped inside an elaborate, heated indoor pool room with an Olympic-sized pool and steam hanging in the air. “Caspian?” I said in all the steam, my voice echoing. I hoped my unruly hair wouldn’t frizz. “Caspian, are you here?”
I heard a splash and moved cautiously over the wet tiles to the edge of the pool. I looked down and found myself staring into Caspian’s handsome, upturned face. My breath caught at the sight of those incredible blue-green eyes, those lush and kissable lips, that long, wet blond hair. “Hello, Nadine,” he said, and again his deep, vibrating voice pulled at me, seemed to secretly say, Trust me…come to me. I felt my heart lurch up into my throat at the sight and sound of him, then noticed that he was still in costume, still wearing his merman tail.
“Caspian,” I said. “I thought we were going on a date?”
“I had hoped we might.” He smiled fetchingly at me and flicked his tail, sloshing water over the edge of the pool. “Will you sit down, please, Nadine?”
I looked at the wet edge of the pool, then thought, why not? It was just water. And as long as I didn’t have to go into the pool, I was good. I dropped down to my knees and Caspian pulled himself from the pool almost effortlessly with his powerful upper body build and settled beside me on the wet tiles.
Wet and out of the water he was simply gorgeous. His aquamarine scales glinted under the dim lights of the pool like little sapphires on fire, and all along his tail he had a long, gracefully webbed dorsal fin, and, of course, that fantastically beautiful fantail, like some exotic South Seas fish. He also had genitals, which I had failed to notice the night before. His costume did not hide that part of him.
“Didn’t you want to get ready for our date?” I said, trying not to stare at his impressive cock and balls and remember that part of him that had been buried deep inside of me, the way he had felt, how he had filled me to overflowing.
He leaned forward to smell my hair and along the side of my neck, which raised goosepimples there.
I raised my hand and reached out to touch his tail. His scales were hard and cool, but pulsed slightly with life under my hand. I felt a jolt and a bad feeling overwhelmed me. “That’s not a costume, is it?” I said withdrawing my hand.
He took my hand, kissed my palm, his lips warm against my skin. “Are you repulsed?” he asked with glinting eyes.
I thought about that. “No,” I answered because it was true. He was strange, but not repulsive. He was too beautiful to ever be repulsive. And anyway, I’d made love to him...to this creature. “But I don’t understand…I mean, how can you exist? I thought mermaids were just stories.”
“We don’t like that name,” he told me. “That’s a human name. We call ourselves sirens.”
I’d read enough about folklore and mythology in books to know how dangerous those were. “Sirens lure humans to their deaths, don’t they? They sing and sailors crash their ships on the rocks.”
“They’ve been known to do that,” he said, looking at me earnestly. “But they have been known to lure humans to them for other reasons as well.”
I immediately blushed. “I didn’t know there were male sirens. I thought they were all pretty girls who sat on rocks and sang to sailors.”
He offered me a wry smile. “Well, if there were no male sirens, there would be no little sirens, would there?”
I blushed at that too and giggled nervously. “What’s your intention…I mean, what do you intend to do with me?”
“I was hoping that you might show me the world.”
“I don’t understand.”
He paused as he thought about his argument. “Maybe not the world, but the world beyond this,” he said, indicating the club. “Marissa raised me from a pup and it’s all I’ve ever known. I belong to her. But I want to see the world beyond the club, I’ve wanted that for so long, and she has said I can do that for the weekend. I can have these two days, but only if I can find someone I trust to guide me. I trust you, Nadine.”
